


question/answer

by akahawke, KessijaScene



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Buddy Cops, Canon Typical Violence, Canon has been taken out back and shot, Connor is a fucking disaster but i love him, CyberLife Employee Reader, David Cage Meet Me In The Pit Challenge, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hank is my dad, Mutual Pining, Potential eventual smut, Reader-Insert, Reluctant Friendship to Lovers, Slow Burn, Software Engineer Reader, Swearing, changes to general lore and story, events of the game extended over a longer period of time, eventual Connor/Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akahawke/pseuds/akahawke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KessijaScene/pseuds/KessijaScene
Summary: heu·ris·tichyo͞oˈristikadj.1. enabling a person to discover or learn something for themselves.2. proceeding to a solution by trial and error or by rules that are only loosely defined.





	question/answer

**Author's Note:**

> We've basically taken the events of D:BH and stretched them out over a more believable amount of time (about a year). We've also made some general lore/story changes to fix the absolute hot mess of a story line full of shitty metaphors that David 'Bitch' Cage has created. That's all you need to know about the "AU" aspects of this story. Basically it exists because we'd both die for Connor. We're really excited about this story so we hope you enjoy it!

**january 28th, 2038**

**detroit police department**

**11:58:22 am**

 

Lightning flickered weakly in the distance, the majority of the storm having passed for the moment. Rain pattered on the canopy of the umbrella in your hand; your fingers flexed around the handle nervously as you stared up at the building in front of you. Thunder started to rumble as your eyes continued to read the bright blue letters. Detroit Police Department. Your other hand curled around a manilla folder and held it tightly to your chest. Darker spots already dusted it where the rain had blown into your face, so you wanted to keep it from further damage.

Someone bumped past you, throwing a half-assed ‘watch it’ over their shoulder, and you glowered at their back as they pushed through the doors of the station. You decided to follow them, annoyance fueling your steps, and you shouldered your way inside. The door stayed propped on your hip, and you closed the umbrella, shaking off water before stepping inside.

“Would you like me to take that for you?”

The presence at your side, and the question so close to your face made you jump, and you whipped your head to see a man standing there with one hand outstretched. You opened your mouth to tell him to back the hell up, when you saw a blinking LED in his temple.

“Oh. Yes. Thanks.” You held the umbrella out, and the android smiled widely, too widely.

“You’re very welcome. I will store this for you. When you are ready to leave, contact the front desk and I will bring it to you.” The android’s movements were stiff as he took the umbrella from you and wound the velcro strap around the closed canopy. He walked off without another word, and you stared after him far longer than socially acceptable before shrugging it off and moving to the front desk.

“How may I help you?” The android worker behind the counter smiled, a little more human than the last one, and you found yourself smiling back.

“I’m here to see Captain Fowler?” you said, voice tilting up into a question.

“May I see your ID?”

You slid it from your wallet and pushed it across the counter. Her eyes brightened just briefly before she looked back up and handed it to you. “The captain is in his office, just through those gates.”

“Thanks.” You stuffed your license back where it belonged, trying to balance your wallet and your folder without scattering anything across the floor. You stepped through the security checkpoint and looked across the station.

There were plenty of people milling about the area, though it looked like many of the officers had taken lunch elsewhere. Some ate at their desks, others worked through it, writing reports or flipping through files. You suddenly felt very small and a touch overwhelmed; your fingers curled and uncurled by your side nervously. While you watched, your eyes settled on a man holding what looked to be a copy of ‘Detroit Today’ by an empty desk. A hurried exhale left your nose, and relief made the knots in your stomach go away. You weaved through the desks and approached him slowly.

“Excuse me,” you started, quietly. His suit and tie were clean, pressed perfectly and not so much as a hair askew. The clinicality of his appearance was slightly off-putting. Nevertheless, you continued, “I’m a little lost, could you point me in the direction of the captain’s office?”

The man lifted his head slowly, in a way that brought your nerves back, and turned to look at you. When he did, you noticed several things all at once. The first was his dark brown hair, combed neatly to one side; only one piece fell across his forehead, comically out of place when compared to the rest of him. The second were his eyes: warm, calming brown that put you at ease, but only until you noticed the third. A bright blue circle at his temple, flicking yellow briefly before he spoke.

“I know who you are.”

You opened your eyes wider, brows knitting together a little in total bewilderment. “I’m sorry?”

“The hostage situation. At Park Avenue approximately one month ago.” He blinked slowly. “You were present.”

You thought back, racking your brain. It hit you hard. A little girl on the edge of the roof. A man named Captain Allen, a royal prick who wouldn’t listen to a damn thing you had to say on the situation. And an android, direct from CyberLife’s prototype department.

“Yeah, I was. I remember you now. Sorry, that just...really caught me off guard.” You stuck your hand out to shake his. He only stared at it before looking back up at you. You gritted your teeth awkwardly and dropped your hand.

“You work in CyberLife’s software development program, specifically studying the behaviors of deactivated deviants to find anomalies.”

“How do you--”

“Your research was fundamental to the creation of my software.” He said it so matter-of-fact you almost got whiplash.

You opened your mouth to say something then snapped it closed. You opened it again, brow furrowed deep and finally settled on, “Uh, right. Okay.”

The android didn’t answer at first, and you really wished a sinkhole would swallow you. Finally, he lifted his arm and pointed at a raised office, surrounded by glass, and said, “The captain can be found in his office.”

You gave a thumbs up, simply because you had no fucking clue what else to do in this situation. “Cool. Thanks.” You started to walk off.

“My name is Connor.”

You stopped and looked at him, hoping the  _ ‘what the fuck?’  _ in your head couldn’t be read across your face. “Okay. Yeah. Nice to meet you.” Your turned on your heel, and you walked as fast as you could before he tried to initiate another extremely awkward encounter.

You took the steps to the captain’s office, and you peeked inside to see if there was anyone there. Finding no one, you knocked on the door until he looked up and beckoned you inside. You pushed the door open, and you stood at the opposite end of the office.

“Captain Fowler. My name is--”

“I know who you are.”

You were getting very sick of hearing that phrase today.

“Then you know I’ve been sent by CyberLife to help with cases involving deviant androids,” you said, though it wasn’t a question. You stepped forward and extended the hand holding the manilla folder. “This is some of the research I’ve brought to assist with the investigations into deviancy.”

Fowler looked at your hand, then back up at your face before taking the file with slow movements. You watched him set it down and flip it open, thumbing through pages and pages of your research.

“This says you’ve only worked with deactivated deviants. That right?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” He didn’t comment further. “I think your presence will be a huge help to H--Lieutenant Anderson. You’ll be working with him as well as the android CyberLife sent ahead of you.” Captain Fowler turned and nodded toward a desk at the back of the station. When you looked, you felt your stomach drop.

Connor was sitting in the chair by, what you assumed was, Lieutenant Anderson’s desk. Except it was...awful. He sat on the very edge of the seat, his knees pressed together and his hands folded stiffly in his lap. It was alien and hilarious and unnerving.

“That’s. The android? That one?” You stared at Connor for a moment longer before turning back to Fowler. The tired expression on his face showed that, yes, he too saw how Connor was sitting.

“Yeah. That one.” Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. When he lifted his head back up, he looked as though he was going to say something but his eyes narrowed, and he stood quickly. “Stay here.”

The captain crossed the office in three large steps, and he wrenched the door open. “Hank! In my office!”

You turned and looked out of the glass walls. A rough-looking older man with his head thrown back in protest was standing in the middle of the station floor. His mouth moved, and you could only assume he was muttering some choice words as he started toward the office. You saw Connor stand up and make his way over hastily, and you sighed, looking behind you and taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Fowler’s desk.

“What?” spat Anderson as he walked in. You pressed your lips in a thin line. Oh boy.

“Sit.” There was venom in Fowler’s voice where there had been none just moments before. This was already ugly, and you could tell it was only going to get worse.

But still, Hank obeyed and sat down. He looked over at you with a mix between confusion and annoyance before looking back at the captain.

“Android cases have been getting worse and worse by the day,” he started, pointedly closing your file. “They’ve always been around, few and far between, usually nothing too serious. But now, we’ve got deviants left and right, assaulting people.  _ Murdering  _ people. This isn’t just special cases anymore. It’s an epidemic.”

“So?” Hank said, leaning back and folding his arms.

“So,” gritted out Captain Fowler. “I’m assigning you to all android cases.”

“What? Why?” Hank sat up suddenly, placing his hands on his thighs as he leaned toward Fowler. “That’s bullshit! I’m not qualified to do this shit!”

“On the contrary, I think you’re just fine.” Fowler almost looked bored, as though Hank’s tantrums were not out of the ordinary. “And you’ll do it without further complaints.”

“Like hell I will! I hate these fucking things!” He jammed his thumb to where Connor was lurking in the back corner. You turned and you looked back. Connor’s eyes were unfocused, like a thought had never passed through his head before and certainly not right now. You turned back around slowly, once again, asking for a sinkhole.

“And who the fuck is this?” Hank turned his accusatory thumb toward you now, giving you a sneer before looking back at Fowler. “Why the hell is she here?”

“That’s something else I was getting to, before you decided to act like a three year old.” Fowler picked up your folder and handed it back to you. “She’s from CyberLife--” Hank groaned, throwing his head back and slamming against the back of the chair. “She works in the software development program studying deviants.”

“Another fuckin’ robot.”

“No,” you said. “Just an engineer.”

Hank looked at you, lip curled. “Do I look like I care?”

You started to snap back, but Fowler said, “You’d better  _ start  _ caring. She’s going to be helping you with the cases, along with the android.”

There was a quiet moment full of anger radiating off Hank’s form. “What?”

“She’s one of the best at CyberLife--”  _ Doubtful,  _ you thought. “And it’s a top-of-the-line prototype. They’ll act as your partners.”

“Do I look like I need fucking partners? This a squad at this goddamn point. I don’t need this!  _ Especially  _ not that plastic asshole!”

“That’s  _ enough,  _ Hank.” Fowler’s voice raised. “You and I both know you don’t need anymore infractions in your disciplinary file. God knows it’s already as thick as damn book. Now pull yourself together.”

“Jeffery, come on,” Hank pleaded. “You know the only reason you’re giving it to me is because no one else wants to fucking do it. I’m not the right person for this.”

“Lieutenant. You’ve been given your orders. I expect you to follow them.” Silence. “Now get out.”

Hank’s face twisted into an expression of frustration, and he stood up so violently the chair almost toppled over. He turned without another word and stormed out of the office, leaving you and Connor behind. You didn’t know what to say, or if you should say anything, so you moved to stand when,

“I’m pleased to have joined this team of highly qualified individuals. I look forward to working with--”

Fowler cut Connor off with a motion of his hand a quiet, “Close the door on your way out.”

You could almost die from secondhand embarrassment, so you stood and made your way quickly to the exit. Connor spoke again, saying, “Have a nice day, captain.” He moved to grab the door for you, and you squeezed by with a mumbled “thanks” and descended the stairs. You could hear Connor behind you as you moved toward Lieutenant Anderson’s desk.

“Anyone using this desk?” You pointed to the one facing Hank’s space, and he shrugged, gesturing toward it.

“All yours.”

You nodded, and you sat down, opening your file and thumbing through the pages. You spread them out, and Hank peeked over.

“What’s that?” he asked, trying his best to seem bored.

“My research. I study deactivated deviants at CyberLife to determine the causes of deviancy and how to fix it in new models. Should help with future cases.” You glanced through your notes.

“Huh.” Hank stuck his hand out. “Lemme see.”

A flash of defensiveness made you furrow your brow, lifting your head. “Why?”

“Wanna know what you’ve found out.” Hank curled his fingers in a ‘give me’ motion, and you covered your papers with your palms. You really didn’t want to give it to him, but he was technically your superior. You sorted out some of the more important files and left them on your desk before picking up the folder and handing it across the space.

Hank looked at your hand, followed it to the cuff of your folded sleeve and then back up at your face before grabbing the folder and taking it a little roughly. You pretended not to notice.

“I take it you’ve met this one.” Hank jerked his head toward Connor, sitting awkwardly in the chair again. He turned to look at you.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you muttered, and Hank snorted, implying he’d probably had a similar experience.

“We’ve met before,” Connor announced.

“Connor--” you sighed, holding up your hand.

“Oh yeah?” Hank said. “Where?”

“During my first test run.” Connor looked back at Hank. “She was there attempting to assist Captain Allen with the hostage situation involving the deviant on the roof.”

“Attempting?”

Your ears turned red, and you inhaled sharply, closing your eyes. “Yes. He didn’t take too kindly to what I had to say.”

“CyberLife decided that my presence was needed after it was clear that the chance of success was dropping as time went on.”

“So they send you to clean up her mess, and now you’re cleaning up his.” Hank leaned back in his chair and scoffed. “What a world.”

“It wasn’t a mess, Allen was an asshole,” you snapped defensively. “If he’d have only listened, it would have been fine.” Hank’s mouth twitched into a smirk. You weren’t sure if he was laughing at you, but it still made your blood boil. “It’s over now, though, so it doesn’t matter.” 

There was a tense silence while Hank flipped through your work, and you tried to login to the DPD’s database. Connor drummed his fingers against his knee before looking up at Hank.

“Do you listen to Knights of the Black Death?” he asked.

You reached up and combed through your hair with a sigh, “Connor…”

“You listen to heavy metal?” Hank asked, confused.

“Well. I don’t...listen to music. Necessarily. But I would like to!” Connor raised his eyebrows, leaning toward Hank to emphasize his point.

You rubbed at your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You wished he would just be quiet.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

You were going to strangle him--did he say dog?

“You have a dog?” you jumped in, looking up at Anderson.

Hank wrinkled his nose, clearly irritated, “Yeah. How’d you know that?”

“There’s dog hair on your chair.” Connor pointed. Hank made a noise in his throat. “I like dogs.”

“What kind of dog?” You were cautious about asking, but you still wanted to know. Hank opened his mouth to speak, but Connor filled in for him.

“A Saint Bernard.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at Hank’s indignant expression pointed toward Connor. “Name’s Sumo.”

You smiled at that, marking it down in your head. You scrolled through the database, making note of different cases on a separate document to compare to your research notes later. Connor continued to harass Hank with personal questions until he was so fed up he stood up, grabbing his jacket and announcing, “Goin’ to lunch.”

“You just got here,” you said, frowning up at him.

“What about it?” Hank tossed a glare at you and continued through the station until he disappeared around the corner, and you were left alone with Connor. You kept sifting through the cases presented to you in silence, grateful to finally have something to work on. You cross referenced the potential causes of deviancy with your notes, finding that, naturally, most cases seemed to be directly related to high amounts of stress placed upon the android.

“Humans crack under pressure,” you murmured. “So do they.” You mulled it over. “Hm.” You flipped through to the pages relating to stress-induced deviancy and highlighted a few passages before closing the file and turning back to the screen.

“Do you mind if I look at the cases?” Connor asked suddenly.

You blinked rapidly, looking at him. “Sure. Go nuts.” You braced your foot against the desk and pushed, rolling your chair back. Connor stood up.

“Thank you.” He stepped into the now-open space, and he scrolled back to the top before you watched every case blink by in a few seconds. He stepped back out. You watched him for a moment, expecting him to sit back down, but he started deeper into the station.

“Where are you going?” You frowned at him; Connor turned.

“To visit the deviant detained from our last case.”

At that, you stood abruptly. “You have a deviant? Here?”

“Yes.” His eyebrows pulled together.

You started a quick pace toward him, but halfway there, you held up a finger to tell him to wait. You raced back, and you sifted through the folders on Hank’s desk. “The one involving Carlos Ortiz?”

“Correct.”

You picked up the file and browsed through it as you started back toward Connor. “Okay. Take me to him.” Connor nodded, and he cut a path through the station for you that was free of bodies so you could read without needing to really watch where you were going.

Stabbed 28 times. Left dead for 19 days. Housekeeping android model HK400. No fingerprints on the knife and blue blood on a bat. ‘I AM ALIVE’ written on the wall in blood. You shuddered. A statuette and scribblings of rA9 written all over the shower. You hummed and snapped the file closed right as Connor rounded a corner into holding cells. You passed one cell, and Connor came to a halt. He stepped to the side; you looked up at him before taking a few slow steps past him, and you inhaled quickly at what you saw.

The HK400 stood close to the glass, nose nearly touching it. If he could breathe, it would be fogging it. Blood spatter covered his clothing and arterial spray splashed across his face. You looked at his arms. One was broken open (from the bat, the report said) and the other covered in cigarette burns.

“Stress-induced deviancy,” you murmured. The android was looking down. You reached up and placed your palm against the glass. “What’s his name?”

“It never said.”

_ It,  _ you noted. “Can you tell me your name?”

The android still stared at the ground.

“Your deviancy was caused by trauma,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your stress levels caused you to break past the wall in your programming. You felt an anomaly that may have translated as--”

“Fear,” the android spoke, his voice low, but sure of himself. You’d never heard so much emotion in a robot’s voice. But he sounded defeated. Broken. Lost. “I was afraid.”

Your foundation rocked beneath you. There was no ‘fear’ in their programming. They were machines to be studied. But the tone of his voice rattled bars in your head.

“Can you tell me what rA9 is?” You ducked your head to try and meet his gaze. “Is it a virus?”

When the android didn’t answer, Connor supplied, “It said in the interrogation that it will ‘free’ them. Them presumably being androids.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you muttered. “That sounds like a higher power, and there’s nothing in the software that should be able to comprehend something like that.”

“I’m going to die.”

It shook you to your core to hear the android whisper those words. “What?”

“They’re going to destroy me.” He looked up at you. “I don’t want to die.” Something like tears glazed his eyes. You blinked slowly, surprise making your heart beat faster. 

“Androids don’t die,” you insisted. “They can only deactivate. You can’t feel death, just like you can’t feel fear. They’re errors in your program.” Though your words wavered.

The android only stared at you before looking back the ground.

“We won’t get anything else from it.” Connor turned away. You watched it for one more long moment before starting to follow him.

There was a loud crack, and you jumped, turning quickly and raising an arm up. There was another crack, and you saw blue blood spatter against the glass. “What’s he doing?!” you shouted, as Connor ran past you.

“It’s trying to self-destruct!” He dug his fingers into the door, trying to pull it open. A few guards raced by, knocking into you as they went. You went to the cell, and you watched in shock as the android leaned back and slammed his head into the glass so hard the casing fractured, sending bone-white pieces of plastic flying. The blue spot on the glass grew larger, and he reared back one more time to smash into the glass, breaking a hole through the plastic that leaked thirium generously. It poured down his face and his shirt, and his knees gave out; he dropped to the floor, eyes open and unseeing. One hand covered your mouth, and you stared down at the body.

“I’ll call CyberLife,” one of the guards said. Connor let go of the door, and he looked for a moment before starting to leave again.

You couldn’t even hear him calling your name as you stood there transfixed with horror, still focused on the android’s lifeless body.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comment if you're interested in seeing more!


End file.
